


After Waiting Forever

by AdyBrooke14



Category: Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Avalon - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21666058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdyBrooke14/pseuds/AdyBrooke14
Summary: When John and Sherlock notice an old man staring out at the same lake every day, they decide to invest themselves in his life. it doesn't take long for them to realize there's more to the old man than meets the eye.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 113





	After Waiting Forever

“Sherlock! Look over there. What on earth is that man doing?”  
Sherlock turns his head to see an old man with white hair and a blue coat kneeling on his knees, staring out across Avalon lake. In the middle was a small island with a ruining obelisk in the center.  
“I’ve seen him here every time I walk through here. The man is very peculiar.” Sherlock responded.  
“Why don’t we ask him?” John wondered.  
“Can’t. We have a meeting with Molly.”  
John sighed but followed Sherlock as they crossed the street.

The next day, John spotted the older man once more. This time, he wasn’t just staring at the lake. He was curled up in a ball, weeping heavily. Sherlock rolled his eyes as John pulled his sleeve pleadingly.  
“Come on, Sherlock! Have a heart! I can’t explain it, but I feel the need to go and talk to this man.”  
“Very well. You best not expect me to do the talking though.” Sherlock replies, following the old veteran as he walked towards the lake. John sat on the ground beside the old man empathetically whilst Sherlock leaned against a nearby tree.  
“Sir, May I ask what grieves you?” John questioned.  
“Someone very dear to me… they- they died. I buried them here, beside the lake. It’s my fault he’s dead.”  
“What was his name?” John asked.  
“Arthur. Arthur Pendragon.”  
“Like the old king from the legends?”  
A smiled wavered on the man’s face.  
“Yes, That’s the one.”  
“How close were you two?”  
“Oh, we did everything together. I considered it my job to protect him- he had an obnoxious habit of getting himself into the worst of situations.”  
John nodded sympathetically and held out his hand for the old man to shake.  
“My name’s John, what’s yours?”  
“Merlin. It’s nice to meet you, John.”  
“The pleasure is all mine, Merlin. That’s an odd name if you don’t mind me saying so. Not real common.”  
“Yes, well we were a rather unique pair.”  
John chuckled softly to himself.  
“Merlin and Arthur! I get an odd feeling your either a time traveler or your parents were big readers!”  
Merlin returned the grin, his tears were all but forgotten. Both men turned their heads at the sound of Sherlock clearing his throat and approaching the duo.  
“I hate to interrupt the festivities, not really, I’m needed elsewhere therefore John is needed elsewhere.”  
The old man nodded in understanding and shook hands with John once more, then extended his arm to Sherlock. The young man stared at it momentarily in confusion before slowly extending his own and grasping Merlin’s hand in his own.  
“Well, I’ll be seeing you, Merlin!”  
“Indeed, John. I would enjoy seeing you around.” Merlin called merrily as they strolled away. He sighed as he watched them side by side, remembering his own past involving a particular blonde and raven-haired young man.

It was on Wednesday. The third day since John had first seen Merlin. For once, he didn’t have Sherlock with him.  
“Good morning, Merlin!”  
“I don’t know about that, but the sun sure is bright!” Came a cheerful reply. John took his now regular seat next to Merlin and the old man met John’s gaze with his own. The veteran almost gasped at what he saw when he gazed into the timeless blue orbs. There was overwhelming emotion for simply one man, let alone an elder. The blue pools were filled with misery, agony, wisdom, and a slight side of nostalgia. John has a certain feeling the man was telling the complete truth.  
“Merlin, how old are you? I keep guessing, but I don’t feel as if I’m getting it right.”  
Merlin let loose a small chuckle.  
“Age is but a number. I can be whatever number you choose.”  
“You know, just because I work with a detective doesn’t mean I love a puzzle. Is it really that shameful?” John was beginning to feel irritated and felt as if he was in a battle of wisdom.  
“If it means that much, I’m eighty-one.” Merlin lord smoothly. John caught the echo of sadness in his tone but chose to ignore it. Just at the moment, Sherlock rolled his eyes at the sight of the old man yet again. What was it about This man that John found so intriguing. Sherlock knew an important person when he saw one, and This man held no significance. He caught John waving at him and say a brief farewell to Merlin as he made his way to Sherlock.

It was the fourth day they saw Merlin at the lake. Well, by they I mean Sherlock. John, unfortunately, was sick and Mary was force-feeding him food as he lay in bed. Sherlock decided to continue his routine and couldn’t help the sigh escaping his mouth when he saw the all to familiar white beard and satchel. Honestly, satchels were only a fashion statement in the medieval century. The man was obviously outdated. Sherlock groaned as Merlin caught sight of him, his face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw Sherlock approaching. Merlin waved enthusiastically and Sherlock plastered on a fake grin and cantered over to sit beside the man, internally moaning in annoyance.  
“Sherlock, isn’t it?” Merlin grinned.  
“Yes, though I hardly see how that’s of any importance.”  
“Well, it is for me! I don’t know about you, but names are pretty important if you ask me. It provides a man’s identity.”  
Sherlock lifted an eyebrow, curious to hear more from the man.  
“So, Merlin… John said you came here because it reminded you of someone.”  
Sherlock watched as Merlin’s face flashed in brief agony before quickly returning to a small smile.  
“Yes, my greatest friend is buried here,” Merlin replies, staring out at the lake. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, reading the deductions that began surrounding the old man.  
Kind. Loyal. Hurt. Damaged. Selfless. Warlock.  
Sherlock froze at the last one. His gaze focused in on the old man’s neck and saw the veins throughout his throat. They didn’t bulge out or turn colors as everyone else at that age would. Instead, this man seemed to have a young vibe to him, as if the old man was a charade.  
“Merlin, who are you really. Don’t think you can fool me with that incompetent disguise.”  
Warlocks don’t exist. This is irrational. Sherlock tried reasoning with himself. Merlin stared at Sherlock for the longest time before glancing all around them, finding the streets to be emptied and void of all human life. Merlin muttered to himself and Sherlock’s eyes grew round as he saw the man’s eyes slowly turn into a stunning golden honey color before slowly, his appearance changed completely. The wrinkles around his eyes slowly receded and the beard disappeared as his hair turned into curls of raven locks. His smile went from a yellow to a vibrant white and he seemed so young, gullible to Sherlock. Something about the innocent-looking young man made Sherlock want to protect him, and keep him from harm's way. Merlin gazes up at Sherlock, biting his lip nervously. It had been thousands of years since he revealed his magic to someone, and a cold looking person like Sherlock surely wouldn’t be able to accept his gift. Sherlock stared at the man in shock, taking his new appearance with bewilderment. Merlin had a feeling it wasn’t usual for Sherlock to show such emotion.  
“I-It’s not possible your the same-“  
“Wizard from the legends. Generally, yes but I prefer the term Warlock.  
Sherlock slowly struggled to calm his breathing.  
“So, you were really in King Arthur’s court, you counseled him?”  
“On rare occasions, though I can’t say he always listened.”  
“But- how, how are you still alive?”  
“I’m not sure of that, but the name I was given by the druids, Emrys, means immortal.”  
Sherlock stared at Merlin in disbelief. It was against everything he knew, everything he had been taught. It went against every law of science there was! It just wasn’t possible for a man to live forever.  
Sherlock slowly stood up and practically stumbled away from the bench he sat on with Merlin, running faster than he thought possible. Maybe John could help him figure out what in the world had just happened. 

John spotted Merlin by the lake, but this time he was pacing. Sherlock stood beside John, staring at the appearing old man as he flickered his aged gaze upon the waters every once in a while. John peered his sight across the lake, curious as to what Merlin was so impatient about. The kind man had always seemed so calm and wise, he would have never thought him to be restless. John finally spotted what had Merlin so anxious. A boat. It wasn’t a ship, nor a large ferry. It was a simple, wooden rowboat. The silhouette of a person was barely visible in the boat, they seemed to be sitting stone-like, not moving. John flickered his sight back to Merlin, who was swinging his head to see if anyone was watching. His gaze landed on Sherlock and he flashed a grin smile at the pair before whispering something under his breath, closing his eyes. John stared in bewilderment as he saw a young, handsome young man standing in the place of the homeless old man that stood there only a second before. John whipped his head to see Sherlock’s expression, which was twisted in a smirk as if to say see? I told you I was right! John rolled his eyes and now saw that he was able to clearly see the man in the boat. Merlin was wading through the water, as if he couldn’t get the man quickly enough. To John’s confusion, the man wore medieval chainmail, a red cape flowing freely behind him. A large insignia shone on the blood red cape, a golden dragon. The man had blond hair that glowed in the sunlight and sky blue eyes that stared in shock at Merlin’s form, racing towards him.  
“ARTHUR!” Merlin wailed.  
“MERLIN?” The man yelled in shock. He jumped into the water and ran as fast as he could through the water to Merlin. Merlin tackles the man, submerging them both underwater. The jumped up, tightly in a hug. They both wore the same wide, idiotic grin and reluctantly, The man released Merlin from his embrace.  
“How the bloody heck are you still alive?”  
“Arthur, I’m a sorcerer. You would put it past me?” Merlin grinned.  
John finally stepped forward, finding the words to speak.  
“You- you know this man, Merlin?”  
Merlin and Arthur both shared an amused look, before both of them turned to face John in unison.  
“I guess you could say that…”  
Merlin smirked. John had the feeling there was some inside joke between the two.  
“John, Sherlock. Meet Camelot’s Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's probably trash but I hoped you enjoyed it!


End file.
